Rites of Autumn

by grimbeau



Day began in dark

at five with roll-ups

and reheated coffee

radio news of butcher birds,

seasonal badger culls,

the lighting of a candle

forgotten prayers

sea weather prophecies


The light of day found

me playing pinball

biding time for the right

moment to unload

before hard labour

breaking feet in smokey rooms

lurching haplessly

between ashtray and crucible

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